EDITOR'S OPINION

What book are you reading?

Published: Saturday, August 10, 2013 at 10:00 p.m.

Last Modified: Saturday, August 10, 2013 at 10:51 p.m.

I'm all for rewarding children who excel, but the way it's done makes all the difference.

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More specifically, Mulberry Elementary in Houma is right to reward students who score highly on state standardized tests, but how it goes about doing that might warrant reconsideration.

As their reward, students who ace the tests get to wear jeans or other casual but “school-appropriate” clothing instead of the required uniforms for the entire first month of school, which opened Thursday for the new year.

Naturally, some parents objected.

I empathize with some of them, namely parents of children whose mental or physical handicaps make it unlikely they will score well enough on the tests to warrant the prize.

And one of their questions — why should Mulberry make these kids' lives more difficult than they already are — resonates with me.

Isn't there a way the school could reward the kids who score best on the best without causing those children and their parents so much grief?

I'm sure if they put their minds to it, the principal and maybe some parents could get together and come up with something.

I have no such compassion, however, for parents of children who do have the ability and wherewithal to do well on the tests but didn't. I have written often about my aversion to the everybody-is-special mentality in which every kid at the dance recital gets a trophy and every soccer player gets an award just for showing up.

These kids grow up believing what they are told by their parents and everyone else around them — that they are the brightest, cutest most special creatures on Earth — only to learn the hard way that someone else might actually be brighter, cuter or, heaven forbid, even more special.

This “cult of self esteem,” as Atlantic Magazine once labeled it, is an essential component of what Garrison Keillor of “A Prairie Home Companion” fame calls the “Lake Wobegon effect.”

His phrase refers to a fictional town where “all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking and all the children are above average.”

But what happens when that wonderful, above-average kid leaves Lake Wobegon for the real world?

Well, they are the kinds of American Idol contestants you've seen run away cursing and crying after Simon Cowell tells them they are horrible singers, a fact obvious to the audience that has been kept from these young people by their coddling parents and flattering friends.

Parents who purport to prop up their kids' self esteem this way may give their children and themselves a quick, superficial high, but in the long run they do more harm than good. They send their kids out into the so-called “real world” ill prepared to handle life's inevitable setbacks.

For those kids, my message is simple: Work harder and smarter. You'll increase your chances of earning high marks on the test — or whatever you put your heart and mind to — but there will still be no guarantees.

Unfair as it may seem, someone else might do better. It's extremely hard to be the best; if it were easy, everybody would accomplish it, and there would be nothing special about it. You may never reap the recognition of others, but you will have the satisfaction of knowing you did your best.

Parents who really want to teach their kids a valuable lesson might add this: You are my child, and I love you more intensely than I am able to explain. You will always be special to me, regardless of how you score on any test. What makes me proud is when you work hard to make yourself the best person you can be. You will need to compete in life, and that will sometimes be unfair. I want you to do well, but there are important lessons to be learned from failure. You might not understand this now, but bouncing back from defeat is one of the most important skills you can learn. I love you when you succeed, and, while it pains me when you fail, I love you just as much.

In my book, a parent who engages in that kind of discussion teaches a much more productive and powerful lesson than whining because his or her child has to suffer some perceived indignity because others did better on a test and are rewarded openly for it. Judging from the outcry at Mulberry, a lot of parents read different books than I do.

Executive Editor Keith Magill can be reached at 857-2201 or keith.magill@houmatoday.com.

<p>I'm all for rewarding children who excel, but the way it's done makes all the difference.</p><p>More specifically, Mulberry Elementary in Houma is right to reward students who score highly on state standardized tests, but how it goes about doing that might warrant reconsideration.</p><p>As their reward, students who ace the tests get to wear jeans or other casual but “school-appropriate” clothing instead of the required uniforms for the entire first month of school, which opened Thursday for the new year.</p><p>Naturally, some parents objected.</p><p>I empathize with some of them, namely parents of children whose mental or physical handicaps make it unlikely they will score well enough on the tests to warrant the prize.</p><p>And one of their questions — why should Mulberry make these kids' lives more difficult than they already are — resonates with me.</p><p>Isn't there a way the school could reward the kids who score best on the best without causing those children and their parents so much grief?</p><p>I'm sure if they put their minds to it, the principal and maybe some parents could get together and come up with something.</p><p>I have no such compassion, however, for parents of children who do have the ability and wherewithal to do well on the tests but didn't. I have written often about my aversion to the everybody-is-special mentality in which every kid at the dance recital gets a trophy and every soccer player gets an award just for showing up.</p><p>These kids grow up believing what they are told by their parents and everyone else around them — that they are the brightest, cutest most special creatures on Earth — only to learn the hard way that someone else might actually be brighter, cuter or, heaven forbid, even more special.</p><p>This “cult of self esteem,” as Atlantic Magazine once labeled it, is an essential component of what Garrison Keillor of “A Prairie Home Companion” fame calls the “Lake Wobegon effect.”</p><p>His phrase refers to a fictional town where “all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking and all the children are above average.”</p><p>But what happens when that wonderful, above-average kid leaves Lake Wobegon for the real world?</p><p>Well, they are the kinds of American Idol contestants you've seen run away cursing and crying after Simon Cowell tells them they are horrible singers, a fact obvious to the audience that has been kept from these young people by their coddling parents and flattering friends.</p><p>Parents who purport to prop up their kids' self esteem this way may give their children and themselves a quick, superficial high, but in the long run they do more harm than good. They send their kids out into the so-called “real world” ill prepared to handle life's inevitable setbacks.</p><p>For those kids, my message is simple: Work harder and smarter. You'll increase your chances of earning high marks on the test — or whatever you put your heart and mind to — but there will still be no guarantees.</p><p>Unfair as it may seem, someone else might do better. It's extremely hard to be the best; if it were easy, everybody would accomplish it, and there would be nothing special about it. You may never reap the recognition of others, but you will have the satisfaction of knowing you did your best.</p><p>Parents who really want to teach their kids a valuable lesson might add this: You are my child, and I love you more intensely than I am able to explain. You will always be special to me, regardless of how you score on any test. What makes me proud is when you work hard to make yourself the best person you can be. You will need to compete in life, and that will sometimes be unfair. I want you to do well, but there are important lessons to be learned from failure. You might not understand this now, but bouncing back from defeat is one of the most important skills you can learn. I love you when you succeed, and, while it pains me when you fail, I love you just as much.</p><p>In my book, a parent who engages in that kind of discussion teaches a much more productive and powerful lesson than whining because his or her child has to suffer some perceived indignity because others did better on a test and are rewarded openly for it. Judging from the outcry at Mulberry, a lot of parents read different books than I do.</p><p>Executive Editor Keith Magill can be reached at 857-2201 or keith.magill@houmatoday.com.</p>